inner that night to a quiet hotel uptown where I
knew the dining-room, mercifully lacking an orchestra and a cabaret, was
not well patronized, though the cooking was exceptionally good. At this
hotel, by a proper manipulation of the head waiter, it is often possible
to get a table a little apart from the other diners--an advantage, if
one desires to talk intimately without the annoyance of being overheard.
It troubled me to find Susan's appetite practically nonexistent; I had
ordered one or two special dishes to tempt her, but I saw that she took
no pleasure in them, merely forcing herself to eat so as not to disquiet
me. She was looking badly, too, all gleamless shadow, and fighting off a
physical and mental languor by a stubborn effort which she might have
concealed from another, but not from me. It was only too plain to me
that her wish was to keep the conversation safely away from whatever was
busying and saddening her private thoughts. In this, till the coffee was
placed before us, I thought best to humor her, and we had discussed at
great length the proper format for her first book of poems, which was to
appear within the next month. Also, we had discussed Heywood Sampson's
now rapidly maturing plans for his new critical review.

"He really wants me on his staff, Ambo, and I really want to be on
it--just for the pleasure of working with him. It's an absolutely
unbelievable chance for me! And yet----"

"And yet----? Is there any reason why you shouldn't accept?"

"At least two reasons, yes. I'm afraid both of them will surprise you."

"I wonder."

"Won't they? If not, Ambo, you must suppose you've guessed them. What
are they?"

Susan rather had me here. I had not guessed them, but wasn't willing to
admit even to myself that I could not if I tried. I puckered my brows,
judicially.

"Well," I hesitated, "you may very naturally feel that 'Dax' is too
plump a bird in the hand to be sacrificed for Heywood's slim bluebird in
the bush. Any new publication's a gamble, of course. On the other hand,
Heywood isn't the kind to leave his associates high and dry. Even if the
review should fail, he'll stand by you somehow. He has a comfy fortune,
you know; he could carry on the review as a personal hobby if he cares
to, even if it never cleared a penny."

Susan smiled, gravely shaking her head: "Cold, dear; stone cold. I'm
pretty mercenary these days, but I'm not quite so mercenary as that. Now
that I've discovered I can